Broken Glass
by kricket is cool
Summary: Hawkeye thought that SHIELD was ridiculous. There was no way he was ever joining their little spy club. He had a life, by himself, and needed nothing to change. He was happy. At least that is what he had always thought until he heard the gunshots coming from an ally in Queens. Hawkeye never guessed that stopping to help the dying woman would change his life forever.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, kricket here. No I doubt most of you will read this but it does not hurt to write this anyways. As I am sure most of my readers have already discovered, I am an erratic publisher and have irregular updates. One of the reasons is that I dislike rereading my work for grammatical errors. So, if anyone is interested in being a beta reader for any of my stories, not just this one, please send me a private message and we can set some thing up. The only requirement is some sort of proof that you know how to proofread. Thank you again for your time and please enjoy my story. _

The stars had never seemed to bright in all of Mary Parker's thirty two years. They shone now, lighting the dark alley and reflecting off the broken glass scattered near the dumpsters creating a rainbow of fantastic color.

Mary stared as the colors formed shapes and danced across her vision, like fairies celebrating the moonlight and twirling with joy. Mary wanted to reach out and touch the mythical creatures and revel in their magic but something was holding her back.

A pain in her stomach, dull and distant, hardly noticeable yet it drove her attention from the enthralling waltz and she blinked.

The music halted and the shapes fractured in to a thousand shards and the world came into focus again. Resting near her face there was a hand, familiar, with a golden band encircling the fourth finger and dark splotched marring the rest of the pale skin. The fingers twitched and scrambled along the rough surface for purchase and finding none.

Mary breathed and choked as something wet caught in her throat. That was her hand, she realized abruptly.

Pain lanced through her abdomen and realization flooded through her mind. She had been shot.

Her eyes wandered down the alley to where a young boy was watching her. His mouth hung open in horror and tears streaked down his ruddy cheeks. Mary's heart broke to see him like that. Her mother instincts wanted to comfort him, protect him from the horrific scene that tarnished the peaceful night.

Peter. She thought distantly as she tried to call for him but was unable to form the words. Something dribbled out of her mouth, spit and blood, and trailed down to her chin.

Peter looked up from her to a point at the entrance to the alley that Mary could not see. She panicked, her inability to turn and see the approaching figure and gauge the threat level immediately turned her mind to the shooter, who was nowhere to be found.

A hand was on her arm, turning her over and pressure being applied to her abdomen, a kind voice whispered in her ear but she knew it was too late. Mary had seen it before, her first partner had bled out before the ambulance had arrived. There was nothing to be done to save her life.

Her blood speckled hand managed to grasp the unknown man's arm, getting his attention.

His eyes were beautiful, she thought. So kind and old even as his face is youthful. Mary trusted him instinctively but her thoughts were focused on her son.

"Nnn…." More blood dribbled from her mouth and was quickly wiped away by the stranger.

"Shh, its okay. The ambulance will be here soon." He soothed her.

"Panic coursed through her spine. The hospital was too dangerous for her son.

"Not Peter… nno hospttt…"Her voice strained as she felt the world darkening but Mary forced herself back into awareness.

"Peter is special." She rasped, her nails digging into his forearm.

"Please, protect him." Somehow the man understood the urgency of her request.

"Of course I will." He smiled a brilliant and sad smile, his eyes shone with sincerity.

"What is your name?" Mary felt laughter build in her throat but she swallowed it down.

"Doesn't matter" She whispered, her voice steadying as her heartbeat slowed. She could hear the sirens now and wanted her baby as far away from them as possible.

"It will to him." He nodded to the boy who had been watching silently apart from the choked sobs that were ripped from his throat.

Mary allowed herself a soft smile as she gazed on her son one last time.

"Mary Parker. His father, Richard." Mary looked up with the question in her eyes.

"My name is Clint Barton, and you have my word that you son will be safe with me." He swore, the green of his eyes darkening with solemnity.

Mary sighed and closed her eyes, the spirits once again appearing with their merry dance. This time there was nothing holding her back from joining them.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter grinned as Mr. Sloker handed back the test results. He knew exactly what grade he had received so the bright red numbers standing out against the white of the paper were of no surprise to him.

Ninety Two.

Not the best in the class but still high enough to be just above average intelligence. Peter checked to be sure that he had missed numbers nine and fifteen and was pleased by the red marks.

Ned always laughed at him when he was proud of those little red lines but he did not know the meaning behind them. He just assumed Peter was the strangest kid in the entire school. He didn't realize that at the beginning of every year his father set a grade for every report card and he expected Peter to achieve within two points of that goal. For U.S History this six weeks he needed a ninety one to ninety four and now his grade resided in the safety zone of a ninety three.

Dad would be proud when he called this evening. Peter could hardly wait to speak to him again.

The bell rang, signaling the start of his favorite class, physics two. While the rest of his class were seniors, Peter had taken both biology and physics as a freshman and had passed the exams to qualify for the advanced class and today Mr. Hogan had arranged for a special guest speaker to come.

Peter's fingers itched as he struggled to sit still in his seat. He glanced to his right where Finn Gentry was scribbling something furiously on a piece of paper.

Finn Gentry was a quiet boy but insanely intelligent. He had already been accepted to MIT with a scholarship that covered most of his expenses. Usually, it was hard to stir him out of his inner world of numbers and machines and when he spoke it was with halting english that spoke strongly of his german heritage.

He had at least half a foot of height on Peter and walked with his head held high and his back straight and cut an imposing figure in crowds despite his hidden insecurities. His blue eyes carried the expression that was usually hidden in his serene expressions and was easy to spot once Peter knew what to look for.

Peter first met Finn after the other boys parents had watched him while his dad was on a mission. His parents had worked with Peter's dad for years before one day never calling at the scheduled check in time five years ago. They had been missing for nearly a year before Peter's dad and his partner found their mangled bodies. Finn, then twelve years old, had moved into the small apartment that Peter lived in and the two had become almost inseparable. Finn was perhaps the only person that Peter could really trust with the truth of his life.

Peter squinted but was unable to read whatever had Finn so riled up. He was about to turn around when the taller boy leaned over and handed him the rumpled slip of paper just as Mr. Hogan walked through the door. Peter hurriedly glanced down at the writing before covering it with his hands. In his mind, he deciphered the simple code, the letters rearranged in his mind.

Abruptly, he straightened in his seat, fighting the urge to look to Finn for confirmation.

According to Finn and his network of sources, the guest speaker today would be none other than Tony Stark. The genius among geniuses and Peter's hero.

Tony hated speeches. Sure he loved talking and publicity and talking in front of the public but usually that was just an act. It was tiring to constantly keep up the facade of flippant millionaire and playboy. He had long since grown past that stage but after Afghanistan it was painful to pretend. A small part of Tony even looked forward to the presentation. It would be a chance to make Pepper smile and maybe scout out some talent for the company,

Peter fidgeted in his seat as Mr. Sloaker ran through his list of what he expected of the class's behavior. It couldn't have lasted more than two minutes but for Peter it stretched into a lifetime. Finally, Mr. Sloaker set his papers down and nervously twisted his hands and turned his gaze to the door. The entire class followed and stared as the handle turned and the door flew open and Mr. Stark strode proudly into the room. No one in the class said a word, instead they tracked the billionaire's movement with their eyes as they straightened in their seats.

"Well, well, well, well, well, well. Morning to you. Is it still morning? Is it afternoon now? Wh has the time." His eyes landed on a girl in the front row, Payton, who cleared her throat nervously.

"El-lleven sixteen sir." She stuttered before smoothly finishing.

"Good, good. Morning or afternoon?"

"Neither. It is not past noon or early enough to be considered morning sir." Payton replied.

"Then what is it…"

"Payton Escue and I would call it late in the morning." She seemed proud of herself for that moderately clever answer.

"Hmm," Tony Stark was not as impressed.

Peter's phone buzzed, drawing his attention away momentarily but he quickly dismissed it.

"How many of you have ever heard of Isaac Asimov? Raise your hands please."

Peter obediently raised his hand and looked around. Finn's hand was in the air, as was Ivan Collins, Jaxon Mitchells and Vy Phan.

"That's more than I was expecting. You, in the Nirvana shirt, what is he known for?"

Peter's phone buzzed again, followed by the screen lighting up in red. Peter's blood ran cold. He put his hand down and turned in his seat to look at Finn. The expression on the older boy's face conveyed the fear that he felt. Finn shook his head and scratched his ear, signaling for patience and to follow his lead. Peter blinked to signal that he understood. He didn't hear Jaxon's response to the next question or the rest of the lecture that followed. The red light was the sign that something had gone wrong with his dad's mission. He had been compromised.

Peter numbly gathered his things and bolted for the door. He needed to get away from people so that he could properly freak out. Finn would cover for him. His dad was in trouble.


End file.
